


Leaving The Deep Roads

by Archaic_Legend



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Ass Play, Bath Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Male Solo, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Tension, Vaginal Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-03-29 13:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3897994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archaic_Legend/pseuds/Archaic_Legend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke and Anders' relationship develops once they return form the Deep Roads, but between Justice, rampaging Qunari and growing Mage-Templar tensions can they make it work or will it burn with the city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homecoming

It was a motley band that made it back through the gates of Kirkwall, all of them looking tired and relieved.  
Varric thrust his fist into the air with a Whoop! "We made it! Now I have to go chase down my contacts to see about getting our goods moving. But tonight we celebrate!"  
Anders cast a sideways look at Hawke, she grinned at him. "First a long bath and a nap, but I definitely think we deserve a celebration." She stretched taking a deep breath in then grimaced. “Ahhh Kirkwall I forgot how you stink."  
“I think that would be us Hawke,” Anders jibed. She sniffed her sleeve and gagged.  
“Yep that would be it. Maker I need a bath… or three.”  
“Ok bathing it is, I I’ll see you all back at the hanged man tonight.” He nodded looking to the others and made his way back to dark town.  
“Bring your sour puss of a brother Hawke, I doubt even he could turn down an opportunity to drink away your new found wealth."  
"I don't think you understand the depth on my brother's suffering." She laughed. "A long bath then ale, or at least what the Hanged Man decides to pass off as ale. I'll let Merrill and Aveline know, I am sure they will be dying to hear our tales of the deep roads."  
"Tonight then," Varric bowed and they all made their way towards their disparate lodgings.

Hawke made it to the squalid building that her family shared with her uncle in record time bursting through the door with gusto. Her joyous shout of returning stuck in her throat at the sight that greeted her. Carver and mother were standing in the center of the room staring at her as if she had just interrupted a very heated argument.  
"So your back," the words twisted out of Carver's mouth, bitterness in every syllable.  
"Oh, Thank the Maker!" The joy in her mothers face at her return was eclipse by worry and fear, "Please talk some sense in to him!"  
She looked at her brother taking in the plate armour and the sigil engraved on its chest plate, "Carver, what are you wearing?"  
He had followed mother towards her and now pulled himself up looking defensive. "I've joined the Templar Order. There is no point in trying to talk me out of it; it's done."  
She raised an eyebrow at him and spoke slowly, "You do realize that you're related to an apostate."  
He scoffed, "See mother? I told you she'd only think of herself." She started to interject but he continued. "I want to be someone. Like Father wanted. Like I want. This is my chance." The bitterness that had become so part of him had some how transformed itself into some strange mix of sadness and determination.  
She could see the panic in her mother's face but also the determination in his. Her mother clung to him pleading desperately, "Caver, please! The Order is so dangerous!"  
He looked at her gently prying her hands from his arm. "I'll be fine Mother. You don't need to worry about me." He turned to Hawke the familiar biting bitterness back in his voice, "And you don't need to worry about me turning you in." He paused. " I know the value of family". With that he left.  
Her mother broke down sobbing, Hawke knelt by her and wrapped her in her arms. "Shhh... mother. He'll be fine Carver is more resilient than either of us give him credit for."  
"but... after Bethany...." she trailed unable to speak between gasping sobs.  
She stroked her mother's hair, “Maybe Carver can do some good…. you never know he could help save mages like Ser Mauevar." He mother simply wept louder. Sobs wracking her body. Gamlen came forward and picked her mother up. "Hush Leandra," turning to Hawke he nodded. "I'll look after her, you clean up. You smell like you have been dragged through a sewer." She nodded rolling her eyes, like he could talk.

It was a sober Hawke that joined the others at the Hanged Man that night. She was clean and had purchased some new robes, but she felt empty. She tried to joke and laugh with the others exchanging stories and other tidbits from their time apart but it was too much. She gave a weak excuse about going to get more ale and left to try and find a moment of peace. She stopped before entering the main bar, leaning her forehead head against the rough familiar wall.  
"Hawke," Anders walked up to her, his voice gentle. "Are you OK?"  
She took in a deep shuddering breath. "Not really." She paused and looked at him. "Carver joined the templars." The look of shock on his face was unmistakable. She turned leaning her back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. "It is all falling apart. I did all of this for them, to give them a better life. But with Carver gone all I can do is make a more comfortable place for my mother to grieve." She paused her face looking sad and worn. "They have never forgiven me, you know, for Bethany's death..... and the crazy thing is I am not sure I blame them. I should have done more.... should have saved....." she trailed off unable to find words. "We were a team. With out them I am ..... it is like I am missing parts of myself. I have failed them all...."  
Anders touched her shoulder and when she didn't resist pulled her into a hug. "I can't say anything to make up for what has happened, but it is not your fault. Carver is his own man he is responsible for his own choices…... no matter how stupid." He stroked her hair gently.  
"I miss her Anders," she muttered softly. He unconsciously traced the raised lines of the tattoo that ran down her neck and shoulders. “She was all that was good in me. I don’t know what I ….” she trailed off.  
His arms clenched tighter aground her. “Hawke, you take on too much. Your sister died to protect her family, I think she would see that as worth while."  
“But I sh—"  
“She lived and died as a free mage. She chose the manner of her life and death, that is a luxury most of us don’t have. Would she want you to drown in this guilt?”  
She chuckled sadly. "No she'd laugh at me and tell me to stop being so serious, then she’d propose a distraction like a swim in the lake." She could feel his lips smile against her hair.  
They were silent for a while before he spoke again. "You mentioned Bethany was a healer.” She nodded moving back slightly to look up at him. "I can teach you to heal, well at least the basics….. if you want. A tribute to her memory.” She grinned up at him.  
“And it would stop you fussing when we go out on jobs without you.”  
He gave a sheepish smile, “Maybe a little."  
“I won’t let you do it for free, I am a wealthy woman now."  
He shook his head. “How about a trade, it will take me a week or so to settle back in and clear out the backlog but after that, you could come by and help out at the clinic. I can always use extra help and if it is quiet I can start to teach you," She looked up at him considering. He grinned at her, "I also propose that tonight we get stinking drunk. Forget the woes of the world and celebrate the fact that we all came out of the infernal deep roads alive."  
“Barely,” Hawke muttered, but was smiling again.  
"You are a woman of action Hawke, with all the blessings and limitations that entails. Carver and Bethany made their choices. Who knows," he leant down to whispered conspiratorially in her ear. "It could be useful to have an agent on the inside."  
“Because Carver is such a cooperative soul,” she said rolling her eyes. She gave him a measuring look. “You have a deal, on one condition."  
"Anything."  
She raise her eyebrow. "Anything?...."  
He gave a cheeky sideways smirk, "Anything but the Seven Nugg special."  
She laughed her tension beginning to ease. "Just make sure I don't do anything too stupid."  
He grinned at her. "Now where is the fun in that."

Talking with Anders had lightened her heart considerably and she began to relax. He stayed close and deftly deflected questions about Carver. She sighed it was getting late Varric was regaling all who would listen about their battle with the demon rock wraith, she lent against Anders a comfortable warmth spreading through her.  
"This is what he never understood," she said quietly. He looked at her and he gave a warm easy smile.  
"What do you mean?"  
"He never had to fear..... He had the freedom to live," she sighed and motioned to their companions. Varric telling his tales, Aveline and Merril listening in wrapped fascination, Fenris drinking darkly but surfacing occasionally to add a detail to Varric's narration and Isabella cooing sweet nothings to a blushing young nobleman. "The freedom to make stupid stupid decisions, to laugh, get drunk.... to.... love." The last one came out in an almost inaudible whisper. "I never wanted any more than that.... How is that wrong?" He said nothing but, put his arm around her and pulled her tightly against him. They sat in silence for a long time watching the others  
"What was it like?" She looked up at him her eyes questioning. His gaze was distant, she saw a deep pain in him along side a fierce desperate hope. "Growing up outside the circle."  
She toyed with her almost empty tankard trying to find the words. "You are never truly free of the circle, the threat is always there, but..." She gave a small smile. "It was still much better than most. My father played games with us training our minds as we grew. Magic was part of our every day and because we weren't fearful of it coming into our magic, it was a much gentler thing." She smiled. "I remember it was snowing and my mother wouldn't let me go outside, so I made it snow inside. My father picked me up and danced with me as the snow fell on the dining table." She turned her hand in the air and he watched a swirl of snowflakes dance around it. She sighed. "My father was very exacting in his education, I think he believed that if we were to prove we could live safely outside the circle we needed to be twice as skilled, twice as disciplined as any circle Mage. Though after Bethany came into her power it got harder. I watched my parents torn apart by worry. They loved each other, but there was a bitterness there. The fear that any of us could be taken at any moment, that someone would let it slip and we would have to flee. After my father died I did everything I could to protect us, to protect Bethany...." Her voice trailed off.  
"I grew up in a very devout family," he started softly, she looked up at him he never talked about his past. "I was so afraid when I found out I had magic. I prayed to the maker to take it away, I tried to hide it." He shook his head. "I ended up accidentally setting our barn on fire. I still remember seeing the fear in my father’s eyes. 'I was cursed by the maker' he said. I was twelve, the Templars hand cuffed me and dragged me off the next day without a word." He felt the anger rise in him, the echo of Justice winding through his voice. She turned his face to hers and he felt his tension ease.  
"We can make it better," she said softly. "So no other children have to suffer as you did."  
"I pray one day that it will be so." He smiled at her. "Wasn't I supposed to be getting you rip roaring drunk?"  
"You'll need more than just the Hanged Man's rot gut ale to get me wasted!" She said puffing out her chest. Releasing her he turned to Isabella.  
"Isabella! We need whiskey! Hawke is still sober." Isabella gave a mock look of horror and slid an almost full bottle of whiskey down the table. He caught it deftly and uncorked the top. "Ladies first," he said offering her the bottle.  
"Bastard," she muttered at him and took a long swig. "You better keep your promise." She passed the bottle back.  
"I always do." He winked at her and followed suit. 

Awareness poured into her body like treacle, from the slow throbbing of her brain her blood was probably of the same viscosity. She was vaguely aware that she was curled up against someone. Her head on what felt like their shoulder, an arm rested across her waist, her leg thrown over theirs. With an inward sigh she squinted out of one eye at the trouble she had got herself into. It took her a second to register, the man she was entwined with was Anders. She slowly let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. He was fully clothed except for his coat which was thrown over them. She smiled, he had kept his promise it seemed. He breathed steadily in his sleep. She looked at him, he looked much younger sleeping, the lines of worry were ironed out, there were even a few smile lines at the edges of his eyes. There must had been a time, when he smiled more than he frowned. She wished she had known him then. A lock of his dark blonde hair had come loose from its thong and lay across his closed eyes. With an almost instinctive gesture she reached up and started to tuck it behind his ear. He awoke with a start his hand shooting up to grasp her wrist in a vice like grip his eyes a brilliant glowing blue. He shook his head and blinked his eyes fading back to their usual golden brown.  
"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't mean to wake you."  
He look slightly stricken and relaxed his grip on her wrist. "I ..... Justice doesn't sleep."  
It was then that he realised their proximity. Curled up together, his arm around her, her hand cradling the side of his face. For a heartbeat they were both silent, unsure what to do. His hand slowly slid up to the one cradling his face, a mingled look wonder and pain in his eyes.  
"Marian-"  
With a groan Isabella stirred somewhere nearby and it was if someone had cast a force spell between them. They both quickly pulled away from each other, Hawke sitting up sharply trying to regain some sense of composure. With a groan she grasped her head, she had forgotten how bad the hanged man hangovers could be. She felt like she had a Qunari war drum in her skull and her mouth.... She was pretty sure nothing had used it as a littler tray, well at least she hoped.  
She heard Anders' chuckle as he stood. "Would you believe me if I told you I am a bit jealous of you right now"  
She groaned back at him, "Not likely."  
He moved to crouch in front of her, to pick up his coat she assumed, until she felt his hands on either side if her head. He leaned forward and whispered. "Don't tell Isabella." She briefly felt the cool pulse of his healing magic she closed her eyes letting it soothe her throbbing head. Then his hands were gone and he stood picking up his coat. The pounding in her head had abated dramatically, she still felt rough, but she wouldn't die of her hangover, well not this one anyway. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, mouthing a silent thank you. He ginned and shot her a wink before he turned away and pulled on his coat.  
Isabella stood and stretched cat like. It always amazed Hawke that no matter how messy Isabella got she always woke up looking..... well like Isabella. "I hope I didn't get my self in too much trouble last night," she said looking around the room at the rest of the party, who were all starting to stir.  
"No trouble at all," Isabella pouted. "Mr stick in the mud over there wouldn't let you."  
Hawke silently thanked the maker.  
"Isabella how do you do it," Fenris moaned from somewhere over the other side of the room.  
"What?" She asked, starting to move around.  
"Drink that stuff so regularly without dying."  
"Just a natural talent I guess, and it is not that bad... I remember this one tavern in Ferelden where....." And she was off telling another of her stories.  
Anders rolled his eyes, "I have to get to the clinic. Hawke shall I see you later?"  
She looked up at him and nodded. "I have to do a couple of things and check in on mother, but I will make sure I make some time." With a wave to the others he left. 

"Hawke reporting for duty!" She said and snapped to attention.  
Anders smiled at her, "At ease, private Hawke."  
She made a face at him and then laughed. "So what do you need me to do today?" She asked, he had been working at the potions bench when she arrived and he motioned her to follow him back. There was a large pile elfroot on the table. There was also a large mortar and pestle filled with some reddy brown liquid, she could still see elfroot parts floating around in the miasma.  
"Here," he said passing her the pestle. "I need you to grind the elfroot into the water until the liquid is a bright crimson. When it is come and let me know and we can start on another batch.  
She nodded and started grinding, he watched her for a minute before stopping her.  
"Let me show you something," he said coming up behind her. Using one arm he adjusted her hold on the pestle with the other held her hand and the mortar, carefully he began to grind the herbs it was much more of a slow rotation and crushing motion than she had been using. "I find a bit of a twist helps release the essence better," he said in her ear. He gently released her hand and let her take the force of the mortar, his hand still hovering above but not touching hers. they stood like that for a while as she learnt the rhythm. When the liquid was a bright crimson, she turned her face to his intending to ask if it was ready. Instead she found her lips brushing down his neck, she felt him shiver goose flesh erupting where her lips had touched. She paused unwilling to move away, the contact between his throat and her lips so light as to be almost non existent, but it took up all of her focus. She could feel his breath catch in his throat, the tension in the arms around her but he was also unwilling to move. She turned her head slightly watching the hairs stand on end where her breath passed over them.  
"Anders," she breathed his name against his skin and felt the quiver run through him. A cough from one of his assistants, made them both jump and he pulled away.  
"Yes .... you have it. That's the colour you are looking for. Now you can pour it through the strainer over there," he said motioning to the large jar with a strainer on the top. He moved away quickly and made himself busy, trying not to look at the flush that coloured her cheeks. With a sigh of released tension, she poured the mixture through the filter and started on another batch.


	2. The Knight Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions are high between Kirkwall's mages and Templars, no where is this more evident than when Hawke meets Knight Captain Cullen on a job to rescue a templar recruit. Hawke tries to push Anders into giving into his barely contained feelings and Hawke is tormented by lust filled dreams.

They had tracked the Knight Captain along the wounded coast. Hawke was enjoying the sunshine walking ahead of Varric and Anders, chatting companionably with Aveline.  
"It is all in the stride," she said motioned to the scuffs they were following. "The damn order drills them so hard that they all walk the same." Aveline frowned.  
“So we are following a trail of scuff marks because all templars walk the same?” She looked at Hawke incredulously.  
"I have been tracking Templars for most of my life, you have to know where they are going to avoid them,” she grinned twirling her staff and giving Anders a roguish wink.  
“So your saying If I get the guard to walk like templars you’ll stay out of their way too? Good to know, maybe you'd get in less trouble."  
Hawke snorted, "No offence Aveline but it will take more than a few more hours on the training ground to fool me."  
"I can dream," Aveline retorted nudging Hawke with her elbow. They heard a pained grunt and the sounds of a scuffle from up ahead, Hawke made a warning motion and moved forward carefully. She watched as a Templar Knight, the Knight Captain she assumed, grabbed a younger recruit by the collar. His face was red and mottled with rage.  
“ANDRASTE BE MY WITNESS WILMOD I WILL HAVE THE TRUTH FROM YOU NOW!” He growled, almost a yell but not quite. Hawke sidled forward half amused, it was some what of a novelty to have the Templars focusing their rage on something other than her. Wilmod pleaded plaintively in the larger man's grasp, he looked sick with fear, his skin an pale whitish green. Hawke paused something didn’t feel right, she slowly pulled out her staff motioning the others to prepare for trouble. Knight Captain or no, something was very wrong here.  
“Were it that easy.” The Knight Captain's voice was low and harsh, the cutting edge of barely restrained fury. Hawke shivered, this man could be dangerous. She was happy to battle demons, Qunari, undead, mercenaries, assassins and slavers, but Templars were a whole other ball game. She remembered the first time she had come face to face with a Templar, his powers had crawled into her mind like blood magic, pulling at the very core of who she was crushing it like so many ants. She shifted uneasily, she saw Aveline adjust her grip on her sword and felt Anders move closer behind her. Whatever was wrong here they all felt it.  
“Don’t hit me,” Wilmod tried again his voice strained. The blow when it came was quick and powerful, the Knight Captain's knee came up hard into Wilmod's midsection. Hawke winced in sympathy, an armoured knee to the guts hurt like hell. Wilmod fell to his knees curling in on himself, groaning in pain. In one swift, well practiced move the Knight Captain drew his sword and level it at the recruit.  
“I will know where you are going. And I will know NOW!” She felt his Templar abilities throb through the air, his power barely held in check. As much as she was all for Templars killing each other, she needed Wilmod alive. With a deceptive nonchalance she stepped forward into the Knight Captains field of view. “I thought Templars only treated mages this badly." She met his hard gaze as it snapped to hers. "It is good to see you’re branching out.”  
“This is templar business stranger!” The Knight Captain snapped. His eyes took in her companions and her staff. "Apo--" An eerie laugh cut off his accusation.  
She looked to Wilmod and swore, “Everyone we’ve got company."

The battle was bloody and swift, the Knight Captain was deceptively agile for a man in full plate. Much to her displeasure Hawke found it was easy to fight beside him, though the feeling of his powers flowing across the battle field made her skin crawl almost as much as the demons. As the last one fell she rounded on the Templar.  
"What in the void was that?!"  
The Knight Captain's focus snapped to her. “I was about to ask you the same question."  
She raised an eyebrow. “He was your recruit maybe you should be looking closer to home."  
“Templars cannot become abominations, not without a _mage’s_ interference. “  
“Oh I am sure because _your kind_ are so beyond reproach,” Hawke drawled the sarcasm dripping form every syllable.  
“Mages are dangerous! They cannot be our friends, Wilmod never understood that, they must always be watched--"  
"Spare me!” She spat cutting him off. "You are all the same. You were almost slaughtered by one of your own who succumbed to possession and yet you still hold on to those antiquated beliefs." He watched the rage colour his face  
“I was at the circle tower in Ferelden during the blight," he growled his voice low again. "I saw first hand how templars trust and leniency can be rewarded"  
"Trust and leniency, is that what you call it?" Anders muttered. The Templars eyes flicked to him frowning, she saw the recognition in his eyes.  
'Void!' She swore to herself, she had to draw the Templars' attention. “And I have seen how Templars use their authority to justify rape, torture and murder."  
“I would never allow such behaviour under my watch.” He surged forward, standing toe to toe with Hawke his eyes burning with indignant rage. It was a practiced move one aimed to intimidate and cower Hawke, however was almost as tall as he. They stood eye to eye, neither backing down, Hawke’s chin raised slightly in defiance.  
“Because you would any idea what was happen under your own nose. You are blinded by your self righteous arrogance, like the rest of your Maker cursed kind.” Hawke growled.  
“Be careful _mage_ ,” he started his voice, low the harsh edge back.  
“Ok children…" Varric cut in pushing bodily between them. "While I am sure you two could argue all day, this is not getting us any closer to finding Keran," The Knight Captain stepped back, looking down at the corpse of the demon again.  
“I fear we might be too late.....".  
"Let's just hope that Keran was a better example of your order," Hawke said her anger shifting to weariness. Just once she wanted to meet someone who could say no to demons, just once.  
He took a deep breath, centring himself. "They were last seen together at the Blooming rose….. I have had no luck interrogating the ….. ahhh…” She watched as a flush crawled up his cheeks. “…Young ladies….” Hawke almost laughed, the Knight Captain was blushing, actually blushing. She gave one of her most provocative smiles.  
“Don't worry Knight Captain I'll talk to them. The ladies at the Rose tend to... Open up to me." She let the innuendo ooze through her words with a wink and was we rewarded with a darker shade of red. She could hear Anders stifled snort or laughter.  
“Wh.. I … T... The order would truly be in you debt, if you helped us with this…" He said the blush receding. "No one at the brothel will speak to me for fear I will shut them down for serving our recruits."  
She frowned. "Why on earth would they think that? As far as I know Templars don't take vows of chastity."  
"The Templars here are ..... Well respected. The Knight Commander doesn't approve of --"  
"Abuses her station you mean." He shifted uncomfortably, but he refused to rise to the bait.  
“If you learn what manner of creature did this to Wilmod please come tell me in the Gallows, I will be make sure you are rewarded."  
She gave him a hard look. "Will I make it out of the Gallows?"  
"In this case," he responded his voice cold.

"Void take those blasted bold mages," she muttered, looking down at her blood stained robes. The woman had literally tried to draw the blood through her skin and Maker it had hurt. She stomped her way into the Gallows. At that moment if any of the Templars tried anything she would incinerate the whole place. She had left her staff with Anders, but she didn't need it, not really. The Knight Captain started as she approached.  
"Wh--"  
"Don't. Just. Don't." She said cutting him off. "Keran is safe. He is not possessed. There were blood mages. They are dead. Now we are done." She turned to go. She felt him move a hand out to her and she dogged quickly. "Don't you dare touch me Templar!" She hissed. He dropped his hand.  
"You did the Order a great service Messere. Though I hesitate to ask what methods you used to determine Keran was not possessed."  
She rolled her eyes at him. "Nothing to get your chantry skirts in a knot over."  
He took a calming breath. "The Order thanks you," he said officially holding out a small purse, it was bulging with coin. She gave him a suspicious look. "Take it and you can go.... You have my word Messere." She wanted to make some scathing retort, but she was tired and aching. She met his gaze and the sincerity in his eyes more than anything else convinced her he would keep his word, this time at least. She took the purse gingerly from him, it was heavy. “May I let you know if we ever need someone of your ... Abilities again?" She made a non-committal grunt, more work with the Templars was the last thing she wanted but from the weight of the purse they paid well. Having the Knight Captain keeping her from the Knight Commander's notice could also be useful.  
"You can reach me at the Amell Esate."  
He started. "You are an Amell….. Wait _you're_ Hawke?"  
She gave a florid bow. "At your service and yes on my mothers side." He gave her a look, his eyes searching her face with an almost desperate need.  
"Are you related to--"  
"The Hero of Ferelden?" She finished for him with a worn sigh. He nodded. "We are cousins, something something removed and no I have never met her.... You were in the tower... Did you?"  
"I knew her… only in passing." She watched as the colour crawled up his cheeks again. "She was a remarkable woman."  
"For a Mage," Hawke said bitterly and turned to go.  
“For any one," she heard him whisper quietly as she walked away.

“Thank the Maker!” Anders said as they arrived back at the Hanged man, from the look on his face and the flattened patch in Varric’s rug he had been pacing the whole time they had been gone. She thew the purse to Varric who started up diving out everyone’s share.  
“I hate blasted Templars,” she said straddling one of the low benches that ran down either side of the table. She sighed rubbing her temples with her fingers, having the Templar use his powers so close to her had given her a headache. She felt Anders sit behind her.  
“May I?” He asked resting his cool hands on her shoulders. She nodded and he begin to kneed the tension out of her muscles. She groaned in a mixture of pleasure and pain as his cunning hands found and released the myriad of knots that she always seemed to develop.  
“Ahh Anders, you have magic fingers,” she sighed as he pated her shoulders to indicate he was done.  
“In more ways than one,” He chuckled. She lent back against him tilting her head back so she could see his face.  
“Are you offering a full demonstration of your talents?” she said giving him a coy look. Their faces were so close together, she could feel his breath dance across her lips. His scent clean and earthy with just a hint of something she couldn’t quite identify coiled around her.  
“Marian,” he breathed his voice tense. She could feel the warmth of his lips so close to hers, their breath mingling. Her body ached with awareness, every nerve attuned to him, desire thumbing through her with each breath.  
“Anders,” she whispered. He shuddered and closed his eyes.  
“I ……” Gently he pushed her back into an upright position, and stood putting as much distance as he could between them. She felt her heart crack, embarrassment burning her cheeks. Varric gave her a sympathetic look and slid a pint over to her. She sighed and downed half in one go.

It was on the balance a good evening. The awkwardness of Anders’ deflection had given way to their usual relaxed camaraderie. Hawke smiled as Isabella tried to explain to Merrill, in rather graphic detail how two women made love. Sebastian was blushing fiercely beside her, his usual water having been abandoned for ale some time ago. It warmed Hawke to see them all together, even Aveline had managed to wander in to join them, though Varric may have had something to do with that. After loosing Bethany to the dark spawn, her mother to her grief, then Carver to the Templars she had felt truly alone. But these people had pulled her out, these people were her family. She smiled happily into her mug.  
"What has you so cheerful?" Sebastian asked, his accent thick with ale.  
"You all..." She paused her ale addled brain trying to find the words. "You are my family, after all that happened... It makes me happy, that is all."  
He smiled at her and gave her a hug, his usual reserve loosening slightly. He kept his arm around her as he raised his cup, the others quieted. "To Hawke's new mismatched family, the Maker willing, we always bring her joy."  
They all raised their glasses and drank deeply.  
She lent against him, "Thank you."  
He squeezed her shoulder, "I am glad the Maker allowed our paths to cross."  
"Me too," she said. She looked across the table at Anders for a split second their eyes met. The intensity of his pain and longing took her breath away. She smiled at him trying to reassure him, but he looked away quickly. His hand that rested on the table clenched and unclenched unconsciously, without warning he stood.  
"I should be getting back to the clinic," he said to Varric waving to farewell to the room. She was tipsy enough to tempt fate, she wriggled out from Sebastian's arm. He barely noticed having been drawn an intense conversation with Aveline about the relationship between Templars and the guard.  
She caught Anders in the corridor, "Would you mind company, at least part of the way, I should probably head home myself?"  
He turned his face away from her, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."  
She had seen the longing in his eyes, he was not going to get out of it that easily. "What on earth do you mean?" She said moving in front of him. Carefully she put her hand up an turned his face towards her, smiling slightly. He lent into the touch his light stubble tickling her palm. She could see the desire in him, she licked her lips his eyes followed her tongue. She rose up onto her toes her lips a hairs breadth from his, he quivered not quite moving towards her but not pulling away. "I don't bite you know," she whispered her breath caressing his lips. Her earlier arousal flooding back.  
He took a shuddering breath and tore himself away. "No but I may." He shifted looking away and bit his lip, the pain evident on his face. "I'm sure one of the others would be happy to accompany you." He fled. She felt her heart shattering, the tiny fragments of pain suffusing her body as she watched him go.  
“Void take him,” she muttered and waved to Corff for another round. “Time to drown my sorrows."

She lay on her new bed, floating on a sea of ale but bathed and blessedly blood free. A new bed in a new house. The house still needed a lot of work, but she was happy to get out of Gamlen's rat filled hovel. Bruce, her Mabari, snorted beside her and she smiled, though he wasn't who she wished was in her bed. She sighed, she needed sleep dwelling on Anders was not going to help. With a sigh she tried to relax and let sleep take her. _She walked into the clinic, it was empty. She heard a sound from the back. Moving silently to the doorway she saw him. He was reclining on a rickety chair, shirt open and britches down. His hand was clenched firmly around his cock. She watched him slowly stroke himself his grip firm his breath hitching. It was one of the most beautiful and erotic things she had ever witnessed. His head lolled back his eyes closed as he thrust into his hand. She wanted to touch him to run her fingers down his chest her tongue along the golden trail to his member._  
_"Maker! Marian," he murmured. Giving his cock a squeeze. She smiled and moved forward, kneeling between his legs._  
_"Yes Anders." He started his eyes wide._  
_"M..m.." He began to try and cover himself but she grinned and she slid her mouth on to his already erect phallus. She ran her tongue around the tip, stroking and sucking him deep. He groaned and grasped the chair in a white knuckled grip. Desire pooled between her legs as she sucked him, letting him out so her tongue could stoke his satiny tip then sucking him all the way in so she could massage him with the back of her throat. She purred as she sucked him and he hissed. Without preamble he pulled her up and crushed her mouth to his. He ran his hands up her legs lifting her robe as he did so. When his hands met the absence of small clothes he groaned. "Makers breath!" He tugged her forward as he made quick work of knotting the length of her robe behind her. She stood her legs straddling his lap, he looked up at her his pupils dilated. Ever so slowly, his gaze never leaving hers he moved forward. The feeling of his breath playing across her mound made her shiver. Slowly he traced his tongue along her nether lips. She held perfectly still, not even breathing, the anticipation was making her pussy throb. With gentle fingers he parted her lips a wicked grin on his face. The promise of that grin heated her blood. He leant forward again and sucked lightly on her clit, she moaned quietly her pussy clenching, as if he knew he slid one finger, then another, into her hot channel. He groaned, she could see the desire to pull her down onto his twitching cock but he restrained himself. He licked and sucked and thrust his fingers until her legs were quivering and she was whimpering for release only then did he lower her onto him. He kept a tight grip on her waist, controlling the slow decent. Her eyes flashed._  
_"Anders," she whispered. "Please." It was the please that shattered his control, he pulled her down hard, sheathing himself to the hilt. She cried out and he groaned into her shoulder._  
_"Maker Marian, I......" He thrust hard over and over and over again. She tightened around him, it was coming too fast. He reached in between them and fingered her clit as he thrust. She writhed and moaned, her pussy tightening around him._  
_"Anders," she gasped._  
_"Come for me," he whispered his voice tight. It started in her toes they curled up as her whole body climaxed around him. She cried out her pussy squeezing and fluttering. He gave a shout burying himself to the hilt. She could feel his cock spasming as he came. She fell against him and he held her to him. "You are a wonder my love," he whispered into her hair. She tilted her head up to his, their lips meeting in a slow languorous kiss._  
_"As are you."_  
She awoke to the early morning light coming in her window, her body throbbed with desire and her heart ached. She lay there trying to savour the feeling of the dream, but slowly it faded leaving only frustrated desire and a longing she couldn't quell. She would have to make a trip to the Rose soon, otherwise she might end up taking Isabella up on her offer.


	3. Lessons Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders first healing lesson doesn't quite go to plan.

Hawke was running late for her shift at the Clinic but she hesitated when she reached the clinic door. They hadn't seen each other since his flight from the Hanged Man. She’d could tell herself that she’d just been busy, but she knew it was a lie. She had been avoiding him and what was worse is that she was pretty sure he knew. If he hadn’t been interested in her this would have bend so much easier.  
‘Maker! Why Him?!’ she thought taking a breath and pushing open the door. She started, the clinic was quiet. No clients, no aides, only the faint scratch of Anders’ quill as he hunched over his writing desk. She tucked her staff behind the door and looked over his shoulder. "Sorry I'm late. I forgot how time consuming it can be to pander to Kirkwall’s nobility.” He carefully placed the page of damp writing on the top of a small pile, and turned to her.  
“It has been a pretty quiet day." He looked at her considering. "Do you feel up to some impromptus lessons?"  
“I … sure… If you don't mind,” Hawke said hesitantly. She had gotten so comfortable with the routine of things, she had almost forgotten why she agreed to help in the first place.  
He smiled slightly, his amber eyes crinkling in amusement. "Let's start with the basics shall we.” He turned motioning for her to sit on the cot that sat along side his desk. “You are an extremely powerful mage Hawke, but healing magic is not like battle magic. It is not about power, it is about control. As you know battle spells are high powered busts, like a lighting strike in a storm. Healing is different it is more like a gentle stream, it flows at a careful steady pace.” He raised one of his elegant long fingered hands, summoning his magic. She watched as it pulsed gently around his fingers, he had such beautiful hands. He extinguished the spell then continued. “I have seen you use quick bursts of healing in battle and it works fine in small doses, but you can’t rely on it. Such powerful busts of healing have their own cost on both the caster and the target and are not useful for any real healing practice.” She could feel herself smiling, she hadn’t seen this side of him before, Anders the teacher, it suited him.  
“What is it?” he asked looking bemused.  
“I had never seen you teach before, it suits you,” she said still smiling.  
He coloured slightly, a small smile tilting his lips. "Let me ask you something, how does your magic feel?"  
She frowned slightly, she had never really thought about it. “It is like…. there is a tempest inside of me, all around me, constantly in motion." She considered, "when I cast a spell I direct that motion, shape it to my will."  
He nodded. “Close your eyes and picture your magic.” She did as he asked. She could feel the magic pulsing within her and around her, twisting and turning, dancing. She could feel the eddies of it lift the tendrils of hair around her face. “Maker breath,” she heard him mutter quietly.  
“Is everything Ok?” she said, keeping her eyes closed.  
“Yes, it is just….. your magic is very... you.” She could hear the smile in his voice, it made her heart ache.  
“Now see that movement and slow it down.” She concentrated, slowing the movement. “That’s it.” She felt him place the pot in her hands. “Now feel the plant, feel it’s life force.” She focused on the plant. She could feel it, faint but there. "Now very gently just a little bit of your magic flow through the plant."  
She tried, she really did, but as soon as her magic reached for the plant it rushed out of her in a torrent. She felt the pot shatter in her hands the ceramic slicing her hand. She swore and her eyes snapped open.  
Anders was looking at her with a slightly bemused expression on his face, small chunks of soil splattering his coat. The plant had fallen to the clinic floor, the pieces of it’s pot scattered as far as the potions work bench.  
She could feel the blush crawling up her cheeks. "Sorry," she muttered sheepishly.  
He smiled, "I was expecting a bit of a mess. Not quite this much mind you...." He grinned dusting off his coat. He looked down at her hands and saw the blood, his eyes widened. “Your hurt."  
“I don’t think the cut is that deep,” she said looking at it.  
His eyes darted to the door, a momentary flash of panic. “Lets get you cleaned up.” She sighed. Two mages and a cut hand, if they didn’t clean up someone was sure to scream blood magic. She went to the wash basin in his small room and rinsed the soil from the wound watching the crimson eddy make its way down the drain. She was glad he had let her install the water pumps. She had argued that he had better thing sot do with his magic than purify water and it would’t help his patients if they got sick with dysentery. He had reluctantly agreed, eventually, though she thought it was more to get her to stop nagging him about it. With a bit of help from Varric she had also installed a washing tub large enough to bathe in. For the clinic’s laundry she had argued, but they both knew the truth. It had been at one of their more enthusiastic sessions at the Hanged Man that he had confessed to missing three things about the tower the books, his cat and the baths. He had given her one of his small smiles when he had seen it and she had to admit he was looking much more kempt than he had for a while. Smiling to herself she returned to the clinic. Gently Anders took her hand in his letting a small amount of magic flow into the wound. It was like dipping her hand into a cool stream on a hot summers day. When he was done he stepped back to the potions bench, another sick looking plant was awaiting her attention.  
He nodded to it. "Put you hands over the plant and close your eyes."  
She did and felt him come up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her placing his hands over hers. She sighed, the feeling of his arms around her was like a balm to her aching heart. "Now don't try to do anything, just try and feel what I am doing." He said into her ear is breath tickling the side of her neck.  
It started as a cool glow emanating from him lapping at her like the foam on the sand, then she felt it. His magic flowed through her gentle, calming as if she were swimming in a cool clear pond, she could feel her body relax moulding to his. With an effort she tried to mimic the flow. She could feel her warmer magic curling and flowing with his own. She could feel the two flows different but similar twisting and entwining then merging as they touched the plant. It was the most remarkable and intimate experiences she had ever had. If she concentrated she could even feel justice's power in the mix, sparking where it touched hers. With an effort she drew her attention back to the plant, and realised she could feel leaves brushing her fingers. Slowly she pulled her magic back, going from a flow to a trickle. She could feel Anders matching her flow. Suddenly she felt Justice surge to the surface. Images flashed trough her mind, memories she had long consigned to the trash heap. Pain, blood, fear, armour biting into flesh, a blazing sword, fire… The images flashed though her mind, painfully vivid, but so fast that only impressions remained. Anders stiffened, throwing himself away from her. She fell forward gasping for air, rage, fear, pain, sadness, shame beat through her all screaming for release. She let out a horse cry, trying to exorcise the raging emotions. Magic sparked from her scorching the ground around her feet. Taking a deep breath she wrestled her emotions back under control. She felt hollowed out and raw. Taking another breath she turned to look for Anders. He stood grasping the nearby support beam in a white knuckled grip, his eyes squeezed shut. A misty blue corona of power swirled about him, lines of blue white fire crawled across his skin, becoming visible then disappearing as he struggled to maintain control. She tentatively moved forwards, reaching out to touch his shoulder.  
"Don't!" He gasped out through gritted teeth.  
"Anders?"  
"Justice.... I saw....... He….. saw your…... life.... the Templars.... The ....." He trailed off, white lines of fury etched themselves on his face. she could see the muscles in his face twitching with the effort of trying to maintain control.  
She moved in front of him, placing a hand on each side of his face side.  
"Look at me.” He shook his head, the movement stilted. “Justice look at me!" she commanded. His eyes snapped open, blazing blue. “I will tell you this once. I neither need or want you to fight my battles for me. You may fight beside me, but you WILL NOT take away my agency in this.” Her voice was tight, harsher than usual. "I will find my own justice, my own way.” Justice stared at her from the swirling blue depths, cold and dispassionate. She held his gaze unflinchingly, without a word he tilted his head in acquiescence. She felt him withdraw, the blazing blue giving way to golden brown until Anders was looking back at her. He was still breathing hard but Justice was gone. He raised his hand to her face wiping way the lines of tears. She turned away quickly moving back to the bench, she could not bare to see pity in those beautiful eyes. She looked down at the plant it had gown so much that it's roots had broken the pot and bitten into the table, cracking the wood. She tore the thriving plant from the woodwork, her emotions fraught. She stopped letting out a slow breath before taking a closer look, the damage didn’t look too bad. She ducked down under the bench carefully examining the underside. The cracks didn't go all the way through and there was no other visible damage. She could add a support beam across the centre just in case and use some of the mud and sawdust filler that she used to use at Gamlen’s and it would be as good as new. She looked carefully at its existing supports and cross beams, it was a remarkably solid piece of furniture. Sliding out from under the bench she noticed Anders standing next to her. He put his hand down to help her up and she took it.  
"I'm sorry," he said without preamble. "He..... I had no right to look into your memories."  
She shook her head, "Every time we use magic, we take that half step into the fade.... things happen..... I can handle myself..... even with Justice.” He winced as if she had slapped him. She turned to the bench unwilling to dwell on the issue, "The damage is not too bad, if it is ok when I come by next I'll bring some filler and some planks to reinforce it, just in case. Given my last two weeks I will probably be flat out with trying to sort out this estate renovation business with mother so it probably won't be until next week, if that is ok."  
He nodded his gaze distant, "That is fine."  
"I'll work on the plant thing, next time you come up to Hightown it will be a veritable Forrest."  
He smiled his gaze still far away and she turned to leave, picking up her staff and settling it into its holster on her back. She glanced back at him then started for the door.  
"Hawke," he called after her almost hesitantly. She turned pausing at the doorway. "Thanks for brining me back."  
She grinned at him, "You kept me from doing anything too stupid with Isabella, I think that makes us even." He laughed then, not loudly but honestly, the anxiety and sadness releasing him for a moment, a glint of mischief returning to his gaze. Once again she wished silently that she had met him before Justice, maybe things would have been different. 

She rubbed her temples. The incessant banging from the restoration workers and the constant questions from her mother were going to drive her crazy. Not to mention she still felt like she had had her insides scraped out and served up as emotional pâté.  
“So I was thinking this Antivan tiling for the upstairs bathroom, and maybe this Ferelden velvet for the drapery,” her mother said passing her some samples. She nodded without looking at them and passed them back.  
“Sounds good.” Hawke looked out the window, it was starting to get dark, she wondered if the others were at the hanged man yet. At least the reconstruction workers would be going home soon, maybe she could sneak out after dinner.  
“And I was thinking of hiring a naked Rivaini dancing girl for the entrance way, to welcome guests of course."  
“Fine fine,” Hawke responded absentmindedly. Maybe she could bring her staff and do some light brigand hunting on the way there.  
“Marian!” her mother poked her arm.  
“Yes mother,” she said bringing her attention back to the situation at hand.  
“I just suggested having a naked woman dance around in our foyer and you just said fine. You are not listening at all."  
Hawke sighed. “I am listening, If you want a Rivani dancing girl then I say go ahead. You know I am not the home decor type. I have my bed, bath and comfortable reading spot, that is all I need."  
“You mean that overstuffed horror in the study.”  
“That would be it.” Hawke grinned.  
Her mother winced. “ Can we at least move it to the upstairs library. I was hoping to have a relaxed sitting area for intimate company downstairs."  
Hawke shrugged. “That is fine, I just want it near the books.” Her mother gave her a warm smile and patted her arm.  
“I don’t want to bore you with decor choices. If you are really happy to leave it to me you can go."  
“I can—"  
“No. I am perfectly content decorating our home. The Arlessa of The West Hills was excited to come by tomorrow and see the work that we have done. I thought I might ask her about some sources of Ferelden styled furnishings.” Hawke grinned and gave het mother a kiss on the cheek, before making her way up to her room to get changed. “And don’t bother to try and hide your staff. I would prefer you take it with you any way."  
“Yes Mother,” Hawke called back taking the steps to her room two at a time. 

The Hanged man was in fine fettle by the time she had arrived, Varric's was entertaining a decent sized group of patrons with a tale of the siege of Amaranthine. She grabbed a pint of ale and sat by the fire letting the story washing over her. She was a million miles away drifting in between Varric's voice and her own memories of Fereldan, when a familiar one whispered in her ear.  
"See how cunningly forgets about the dashing Grey warden apostate who was centre stage in the whole affair."  
She smiled, "I'm sure the dashing apostate wouldn't take it too personally, after all I hear he is trying to remain incognito." She smiled at him. “And besides, I heard that it was the mighty Sir Pounce-a-lot who really saved the day."  
He dropped down beside her, "Sir Pounce-a-lot was a hero indeed." He looked at her is gaze considering. "Does your family know?"  
It took her a moment to put the question into context, he had seen those memories too. She looked into the fire avoiding his gaze. "No, and they are not going to."  
"What they did, what you had to do...."  
She cut him off, "I know. I want them to assume that father left some fail safe in place, that his love extended beyond the grave. It is that belief that got them through some dark times, it makes their world just that little bit brighter. It is the world they need."  
“Marian.” She looked up at him. Those beautiful golden eyes looked at her with such fondness, admiration and respect that it made her chest ache. With her emotions already so raw she couldn’t hide the affection and gratitude she felt. He smiled softly and put his arm around her pulling her into a hug. She rested her head on his shoulder and breathed. He had seen some of her darkest memories and still accepted her. Maybe that was why she was so drawn to him, they both had their demons and could accept each other despite, or maybe even because of them. 

She adjusted the load of wood and tools on her shoulder. She had arrived at her usual time and Anders was busy with patients. She paused watching him, his brown eyes dark with concern. She watched the care and tenderness he had with his patients, the cool glow of his magic a soothing balm. She was almost envious of them, the feeling of his magic flowing through her still plagued her dreams. The only way she had been able to settle herself some evenings was to practice the style herself. She would sneak up to her mother’s rooftop garden and practice under the moonlight. There had been a few casualties early on but she had gotten the hang of it quickly. She carefully made her way to the potions bench to start work. It took a while for the new supports to be installed to her satisfaction and she was just smoothing the filler into the crack when he came over to her. He watched her quietly gently kneading and smoothing the filler till the crack was only a dark stain on a perfectly level surface.  
"You've done this a lot," he observed as she put the trowel down examining the filled crack from all angles.  
"Gamlen's house didn't maintain itself and Carver was definitely not going to do it." She patted the bench with an air of satisfaction. "Leave this to dry till tomorrow, it should be ok then to work on."  
He nodded and lent against the bench, running his hand across the filled crack. “Perfect.” He smiled his gaze distant. "How is the practice going? I haven't yet had the chance to see Hightown's new shrubbery."  
She poked her tongue out at him and he laughed. “Ok, it is a strange thing but I think I have kind of got it."  
"Show me," He said moving to stand in front of her.  
"Don't we need some non-vital plant to demonstrate on?" She asked blushing slightly.  
"I want to try something a little different, the principle is the same gentle flow of energy, but this time I want you to concentrate on that flow, feel what its like to sense an injury."  
"On who?" She asked hopping off the bench. She looked around the room, their were no more patients and the doors were closed, he must have shut up while she had been working.  
"Me."  
She gave him a sharp look. "You are injured?"  
He smiled at her, "it is nothing serious and I thought it would be helpful to show you."  
She looked dubious. “Ok what should I do."  
"To start with you will need to touch me, eventually you won't have to but at the beginning it is easier.” She moved to stand in front of him and put her hands on his chest. He gently moved one of her hands to his hip. "It helps if you have some distance between the points of contact, makes it easier to pin point the injury."  
She nodded and closed her eyes, looking at him only made it harder to concentrate. She breathed and started slowly, the energy a trickle, gently she increased the flow. It was remarkable she could feel the power flowing through him, she could also sense parts where the energy didn't flow through as easily. She concentrated on those places, she could sense numerous minor cuts and bruises but as she felt his right side caught her attention. Her eyes shot open and she looked at him, he stood stoically his eyes averted. Without a word she opened his coat and pulled up his shirt. His right side was a rainbow of bruises, she was pretty sure he had a damaged rib and possibly some soft tissue damage. She moved her hand around he edge her fingers brushing skin. He hissed quietly, she looked up at him concerned. "How did this happen?" His eyes were dark as he looked at her, she could see the pain there but also something else.  
"It was nothing, a minor disagreement with some Coterie thugs."  
She pursed her lips, "At the very least you should have healed yourself, this is serious."  
He smiled slightly, "it looks worse than it is."  
She frowned at him unconvinced.  
"I want you to try again, and this time when you feel the injured areas channel the flow to that point. You will need to focus on healing willing the wounds to heal, like you do with a battle healing but gentler."  
She looked worried. "What if I can't control it, I don't want to hurt you further," she said resting one hand on his chest and the other against the skin of his uninjured side. It was probably not necessary but she wanted to feel him, feel his skin against her hand.  
He let out a tight breath and put his hands against hers. "I'll help if needed.” She took a steadying breath and closed her eyes again. They were so close to each other, her hands on his skin his hands on hers. She could feel the staccato beat of his heart, his breath dancing across her cheek. She took another breath and put the thoughts from her mind. He needed healing. Once again she started slowly. She started on the smaller cuts and bruises, carefully directing her energy through those places, willing the wounds to heal. One by one she felt the energy flow improve until she could no longer sense the injury. It wasn't long before she reached his side, carefully she started to direct the energy through the damaged area, it was a lot harder and she breathed deeper drawing on her reserves. The flow sped up. She heard Anders' sharp intake of breath, his grip tightening on her hands, but she kept the flow steady, she could feel the damage mend feel the energy start to flow freely. When she could no longer sense any more injuries, she pulled back the flow. She felt exhausted. She opened her eyes slowly, Anders' gaze met her own and he smiled.  
"See, as good as new."  
She smiled tiredly at him, "Damn it really takes it out of you, how do you do it all the time?"  
"It gets easier with practice. And you did over do it a little, I feel I'm buzzing."  
"I'm sorry," she said looking away a blush rising to her cheeks.  
"Hey," he released her hand and gently gasped her face turning her face back up to look at him. "I set you a very difficult task and you excelled." He looked at her with a mix of respect and admiration.  
She turned her face into his hand relishing the contact, his thumb moved gently across her lower lip. She parted her lips slightly his thumb slipping a little. Meeting his eyes she curled her tongue around the tip of his thumb, sucking it gently into her mouth. His eyes traced the movement and he shuddered closing his eyes. She grew bolder sucking his thumb a little deeper. He groaned, a mixture of pleasure and frustration. With a visible effort he withdrew his thumb and stepped away. "Anders...."  
He turned away from her on the pretence of neatening up one of the cots, but she could see the tension in him. "You should go and get some rest," he said quietly.  
"Anders,” tried again moving forward to touch his shoulder.  
"Please Hawke.... I… I can't."  
She was too tired to push the issue today, next time she would.

He tossed and turned in his small cot. He could still feel the lingering effect of her magic. It crawled through him winding its way through his secret places. The aching of his heart and the throbbing of his cock were going to drive him slowly mad. He wanted her, Oh Maker how he wanted her body and soul. It was if she had stolen a piece of him. He could feel the shape of the missing piece, a gnawing absence which was only soothed by her nearness. He had tried to ignore it, but it was impossible. He tried to accept it and move on. But if he closed his eyes he could see her looking at him as he ran his thumb along her lip, the feel of her warm moist mouth as she sucked it in and that wickedly cunning tongue. He could still feel her softness, her breath, the look of desire on her face and, maker help him, love. He stopped that chain of thought, there was nothing he could do about it, she was not his, it could never be. He thrust his head into his pillow and groaned, why her, why now. -- _"She is a distraction,"_ \-- Justice's thoughts echoed through his own. -- _"She lives free and yet has done very little to..."_ \-- _'NO!'_ He cut in on his own thoughts. _‘She is setting an example, she is standing up to those who would condemn us at her own risk.'_ An image of her with the tranquil stamp on her forehead poped into his mind, the rage that filled him was almost overwhelming, Justice rising far too close to the surface of his mind. He took a deep breath. -- _"The mere idea of her being put through that which happens to your brothers and sisters every day and you almost snap. You cannot do this."_ \-- _'That was unfair. Even the idea that....'_ He couldn't even finish the thought. He flopped back onto his back. He remembered the feel of her hands on his bare skin, his hands on hers. The throbbing in his cock grew more insistent. What would it be like to cradle her against him, to claim her lips with his own? What would she taste like, would her kisses be playful or demanding? His mind shot back to a few weeks ago, she had been leaning over his desk pondering a new potion recipe All he had wanted to do was come up behind her and lift her skirts. He imagined it, the fabric sliding up his fingertips brushing lightly on her skin as he did so. The catch of her breath and the almost inaudible humm of pleasure as he stroked her backside. In his minds eye he dropped to his knees, her long legs bringing her wet quim, to just the right hight. He would run his tongue along her nether lips, dipping it in to flick her hidden perl. She would gasp, and he would open her up like a flower. He could feel Justice's displeasure as he slid his hand into his britches. 'Maker help me' he thought and grasped his cock slowly stroking himself. He would lick and suck her until her legs quivered and she was at the brink of release. Then he would stand and ever so slowly he would slide into her hot wet opening. He came with a yell, hot semen spitting out in a violent spurt. Maker! even just the thought of sliding into her brought him to climax. He moaned his orgasm still shooting bursts of pleasure through him. At that moment in a dark corner of his mind he realised the truth, he was so screwed.


	4. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders' finally surrenders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long sooo much life crazy!
> 
> Finally getting to the good stuff this chapter NSFW :)
> 
> I have been writing more but I have decided to split the story into self contained parts. This is part one I will post a link when part two is posted :)

It was a glorious day walking along the coast road, Isabella took a deep breath filling her lungs with the salty sea air.She let the breeze run through her hair imagining being on a small skiff darting around the shoals and rocks along the coast.She gazed at Hawke walking point with Fenris and smiled.Being tossed around with Hawke made being landlocked almost bearable. Turning to Varric and anders walking slightly behind her she noticed Anders was turning a wonderfully flustered shade of pink. Something juicy was definitely going on.  
"I don't have--" Anders said looking away feigning nonchalants.  
"Andraste's flaming trousers!" Varric hissed. "I've seen star crossed lovers that were less infatuated than you."  
“I … With…. I just can’t."  
Isabella sauntered to Anders other side and grasped his arm. “Oooh Anders your flushed! are we talking about Hawke?"  
"Blondie here refuses to do anything about his … problem."   
"I don't--"  
"Give it up sweetie, no one spends that much time looking at a woman's booty without wanting to do some plundering."  
"I... It.... She...." Anders' colour deepened. She grinned this was going to be fun.  
"Well if you don't do anything soon Varric and I will just have to make something up.” She looked pensively at hawke. She knew of some of Anders’ preference from the time at the Perl, she grinned. "Captured by Templars, Hawke chained to the wall of her cell, defenceless and naked.” She could see the image worm itself in to Anders’ mind. His breathing hitched and his pupils dilated. The idea of her soft luscious flesh restrained and at his mercy was  going to torment him for weeks. "I imagine a daring rescue. Hawke falling into your arms then showing you just how many ways she could express her _gratitude_ " She put every ounce of innuendo she could in the word.   
"Really Isabella? You’re going to break him." Varric said rolling his eyes. “ And besides isn't it more likely that Blondie here would be the one in need of rescue.”    
Isabella smiled knowingly at Anders. "Perhaps."

 

It was a tense walk back to the cavern entrance, peppered with the occasional battle with  the newly risen dead. The group stood back warily, watching in awe as Hawke tore the last of the skeletons limb from limb with raw force magic.   
"Blighted blood mages,” she muttered as she kicked the rolling head out of the way.   
“Blondie I think you better shagg her soon..... Angry Hawke is starting to scare me,” Varric said out of the corner of his mouth, watching Hawke storm towards the sunlit opening. Hawke had been in a foul mood the entire way back to the cave entrance. Decimus had seemed to take it personally that they had brought mages and targeted Anders specifically. She had heard the sharp strangled noise that had torn from him as he was paralysed trapped in a spinning vortex of his own blood, his face contorted in agony. Justice had flashed and burned but he could do nothing to free them. Hawke had spun and all hell broke loose. Her companions had rarely see her use force magic, and now they knew why. Hawke screamed throwing Decimus and the others around like rag dolls, smashing them against the walls, floor and ceiling till they were a mess of blood, fabric and shattered bone. It took all of all of their combined effort to stop her from pulling the whole place apart once he was dead. It was Justice that stopped her, he grabbed her in his arms his forehead pressed to hers. His murmuring voice was quiet his blue lighting skittering against her skin. Grace looked at her in horror.  
“You killed one of your own! How could you?"  
“Did he give us a minute to talk before slitting his wrists." Hawke said in disgust. "We are not going to take you back to the circle, not unless you want to go.”   
Grace sniffed, her eyes moist. Dragging her sleeve across her face she shuddered. “We just want to live free." Her eyes flashed to Hawke. "There is a Templar standing outside, kill him and we can make our escape."  
“No,” Hawke said her voice flat. “Enough good men have died today.” Anders snorted, but stayed quiet.  
“I will convince them you are all dead."  
“What if it doesn’t work."  
“Then I will do what I have to, either way you will all walk away free."  
As soon as she reached the sunlit opening she stopped dead. Staring at the semicircle of Templars arrayed around the entrance with Ser Karras at its centre his sword held loosely at his side. Fenris swore softly and Anders let out a hissing breath. Thrask shook his head almost imperceptibly at her but it was too late.  
“Ser Karras, this is…..”   
“I know who this is Ser Thrask! Hawke your reputation precedes you."  
“All good things I hope,” she quipped lightly, but barely controlled rage radiated from her.  
“What are you doing here?" He said idly examining his sword. "Consorting with blood mages now are we? Tut tut Hawke..."  
“If by consorting you mean turning into lifeless sacks of spider food .... sure,” she said her voice sounding flat and tired.   
"They're dead?"  
Hawke nodded. “I hoped that a more delicate touch could diffuse the situation, turns out I was wrong, they were intent on their path. Alain there is the only survivor and he surrendered before it went... Bad"  
“Well if you would just move a side we can go in and have a look then, confirm these claims." He said his voice clearly betraying his distrust.  
“I wouldn’t if I were you. Big spiders, nasty undead... lots of general badness. Better to take my word for it and keep your armour shiny. I wouldn't want you all to have to tarnish your untested metal on things that can actually fight back.... Skip off back to the gallows now.” She made a shooing gesture. Ser Karras’ face darkened. His hand moved up in a familiar gesture and she felt the silence ability fall across her, crawling across her mind and filling her mouth with cotton wool. Ser Karras stepped forward a malicious glint in her eye.  
“We have ways of silencing mouthy mages in Kirkwall.” She raised an eye brow, her lip quirked. He turned to the others. “Take them. Meridith will want to deal with these…." He turned back to Hawke his eyes darting over her shoulder to Anders and back. "..... _Malifica--_.” Her hand flashed up her belt dagger slicing across Ser Karras’ throat. His eyes opened wide as a fountain of blood poured from his slit throat. Hawke stood there impassive as his blood drenched her robe. He gurgled and fell slowly to his knees. The other templars stood stunned. The silence lengthened only the faint drip drip of blood from Hawke's robes and the rustle of the wind giving life to the scene. She saw one move starting to cast smite.  
"Isabella!" She said a dagger few past her catching the Templar in the throat stopping the smite and breaking the stillness that had them all enthralled. A yell came from one of the Templars to Hawke's right and was up quickly by the others as they surged forward. Hawke abandoned her staff focussing on blades and force magic trying to avoid the templars' nullifying abilities. Anders moved with her boosting her when he could, fighting with his staff blade when he couldn’t. And then it was over. She stood in the centre of the carnage her daggers held low, blood dripping from their pointed tips, breathing hard. Anders gazed at her across the death strewn battle ground his eyes sparking blue. She was so ferociously, heart wrenchingly, beautiful. In two long strides he was on her, his lips crushing against hers, his body moulding to hers. She moaned into his mouth his tongue taking the opportunity to plunge through her parted lips. It was blood and fire. Every fiber of her body screamed for him, she cupped his face pulling him deeper, nipping his lower lip lightly. He shuddered, his hips rocking almost unconsciously against hers. The kiss was a match to kerosine soaked tinder. He growled his hands grabbing her ass and pulling her roughly against him. This was a wild frenzied passion. Her body was burning. She wanted to throw him down and fuck him right here in the centre of this blood soaked battlefield. A small cough cut through the spell, she waved her hand in a dismissive gesture but it came again more insistent. Anders stiffened pulling away suddenly looking stunned. She swayed disoriented until a third cough brought her attention back to Thrask. Everyone was staring at her, she rubbed her temples trying to focus her body still thrumming with thwarted desire.  _He kissed me.... Anders_ _actually kissed me... of his own volition._  The thoughts spun in her mind. Her heart sang and she had to resist the urge to do a celebratory jig.  
“Hawke,” Thrask’s voice held all the horror and disapproval he could muster. She looked around they were knee deep in Templar bodies and kissing..... seemed rather fitting really. Anders moved away from her and she sighed reality needed handling. She turned to the group of mages who were cowering in the entrance of the cave.  
"Grace you and the others need to leave now. Stay off the main roads until you get well away from the city,” She said nodding to the mages.Grace came forward, proffering her staff.   
“I can’t repay you but here take this. I can’t carry it anyway.” Hawke inclined her head taking the staff it was solid and well made. “I honestly didn’t think there was any hope for us. Now maybe we have a chance."  
“Where will you go?”   
“There are places in theFree Marches where the Templars are not as vigilant. The Maker willing we can find a home.”  
“Andraste guide you."  
“And you.” Grace tilted her head, giving Hawke a curious glance as she lead the others away.  
"Anders can you give everyone the once over--"  
"Um..." Varric started.  
"What?" Hawke looked at him, he shifted uneasily.   
"Blondie's gone," he said hesitantly. She blinked at him.    
"What..." She looked around. It took a moment, then her world tilted. The happy balloon she had been floating on exploded sending her careening towards the ground. He had run again, her body sagged. She closed her eyes taking a slow shuddering breath, pain evident in her features. "Fenris and Issy with me we have to find Anders before the bandits or Tal-Vashoth do. The rest of you help clean this up." She waved her hand to the bodies around them. "Which way did he go Varric?" Varric pointed down the path to his right. Without another word left, Fenis and Isabella hurrying to catch up. They found him only a mile or so form the cavern backed up against a rock, a ring of bandits surrounding him. He was doing a good job at holding them off but their archers were preparing it would be like shooting fishing in a barrel. Without thinking she moved forward magic dancing from her finger tips. Between Hawke, Fenris, Isabella and Anders they made quick work of the Bandits. The last one had barely fallen before Hawke turned on Anders.   
"WHAT IN ANDRASTE'S FLAMING KNICKERS WERE YOU THINKING?!? YOU WERE VERY NEARLY KILLED!"  
"Hawke I--"  
"NO! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOUR EXCUSES." She turned away before he could see the tears in her eyes.  
"Marian... I don't want to hurt you."  
"Then don't," she said softly.  
"I wish...... It was a mistake..... Justice .... I .....I am sorry." She felt her heart shatter in her chest and the tears began to fall freely down her face. "Mar--"  
"DON'T.... Just don't..." She took a shuddering breath, steadying her voice. "Fenris and Isabella will escort you back to the city. I have to go sort out another mage mess," she said bitterly and walked back up the path. She heard him call after her but she ignored it, she didn’t want to hear it, not any more.

 

She curled up on the couch in the upstairs section of the library. She shuffled snuggling down into the softness. She had been hiding away up here for the last three days. It was comfortable and safe and she could lick her wounds in peace. Every now and again the memory of the kiss would surface leaving her heart aching and her body throbbing with unfulfilled desire. Bruce, her Mibari, would come up give her a lick and a consoling look every few hours before wandering back down to play with Sandal. She had cried already most of her way through the small smutty romance collection that Isabella had lent her on the first two days, now feeling substantially better she had decided to go back to something a little more interesting.  She stroked the spine with a smile. It was a discussion of the schools of magic written by a circle Mage who was brought up in one of the tribal regions of Fereldan. It had been a hard book to come by, but well worth it. Her father had taught her in his version of Circle magic, it would be interesting to read about some alternatives. 

> _"The chantry has decided that there are four schools of magic: Spirit with the opposing force Primal and Creation with the opposing force Entropy. The understanding of the magical world in these terms is based on the prescribed interpretation of chantry texts as well as certain assumptions about the maker his creation of the world. The most relevant assumption to this discussion is the belief that the maker created a world in balance and that it was man that destroyed it. Other non-chantry based faiths often have a quite different understanding of the nature of humanity and the role of magic in society. This difference in understanding has eventuated in a number of different magical practices that do not fit within the confines of the schools as defined by the chantry. Now I am not talking about forbidden magics here as defined by Transfigurations 1:2*. Instead I am talking about lower level magics that are focused on maintaining a balance with nature. As these belief systems do not assume that humanity has irrevocably shattered the balance that exists in the world many of the practices focus on working to maintain it. For example the art of shape shifting is common amongst tribal mages. In Tribal cultures shape shifting is generally used as an avenue to understand the natural world, to gain another perspective. Sometimes these forms are also believed to be more pleasing to the nature gods and subsequently they are more likely to converse with or give heed to the requests of a mage in such a form. Within these cultures shapeshifting is a highly refined art, however as the art fits their cultural needs they see it as unnecessary to push the practice further…."_

A quiet cough drew her attention away from the book, and she looked up her mind still lost in its pages. Anders lent against the balustrade by the stairs watching her.   
"I didn't know you were such an dedicated reader." He smiled his gaze warm, she felt her heart pound in her chest the wound still fresh.  
"Anders.... I ..... I didn't hear you come up."  
"Evidently,” he said chuckling and moved forward, motioning to the seat beside her. She nodded and he sank down into it.  “I wanted to apologise,” he started. She looked away the ache becoming more acute. “I was wrong to run away like I did .... to say…. the things I did.” He ran his hands through his hair in that exasperated way she found so endearing and continued. "Maker Marian! I have no control around you... I never thought I'd meet another mage like you. Another apostate.” He was silent for a time, hunched in on himself fiddling distractedly with the fraying edge of his coat. "When I decided to join with Justice,” he started so softly she had to shift forward to hear. “I gave up on my dream of love. It was my final sacrifice.... My hearts desire..... I had to let it go to be able to fight for right for others to have it.” He looked at her his eyes wide, she saw the pain there so deep it made her aching heart seem childish. “Then you came into my life like a typhoon, turning all that holier-than-thou self sacrifice to ash in my mouth.” He gave her one of his lopsided smiles that made her heart skitter. “But with Meredith..... it is becoming too dangerous..... I can’t put you at risk."  
“Anders,” she reached forward taking his hands in hers. “It is my risk to take."  
“I had Templars practically on my doorstep the other night..... Marian it is too much."  
“I’ll have a chat with Carver. Even if he still hates me, he won’t want me blowing in the gallows gates to come rescue you,” she winked at him. "And you know I would."  
He chuckled sadly. “That might ruin his pious Templar image somewhat."  
“If all else fails I could always just lock you up here …. for your own safety _of course_."  
He rewarded her with one of his charming sideways smiled and he waggled his eyebrows at her, “Sweetheart, I am not letting anyone lock me up, you included.” Their eyes met and she felt her heart skip a beat . That damnable smile that playful glint in his eye, Maker why did she have to fall for someone so very ..... complicated. “Marian… I…..” He looked down at his hands in hers.  
“I am serious Anders, if they want you they will have to come through me.”   
His eyes snapped to hers, she could see the worry in them. "You are at as much risk as I am," he paused. "That is what I worry about….. What if your money and position aren't enough, what if the knight commander turns on you?" He looked away his voice shaking slightly. "I have tried  to control this… tried to stop…. I can’t....” His eyes met hers with an intensity that took her breath away. "I would drown us in blood to keep you safe...... There will be more violence, I know that.”   
“Maker’s breath your blind! There will always be violence... I am Hawke." She looked at him."There will always be people wanting to test me, people wanting me to fight for them and of course Templars....... But we have the freedom to choose. We can make the choice to face it together!" He looked up a her a drowning man searching for the surface. He shook his head and she could feel him pull away. He looked at her his eyes full of fear, pain, anger and love. It was the love that tore at her heart, he was so tangled in himself.   
He looked away shifting uncomfortably. “What are you reading?” he asked lamely trying to divert the conversation. She sighed but went along. They had reached a turning point, she didn’t want to push him too far. ' _Maker this would be easier if he just_ _didn’t care!'_  she thought bitterly to herself as she picked up the book from her lap.  
"It is a discussion about the circle's the schools of magic. From what I understand the author was raised in one of the Tribal religions but ended up in the Circle. She argues that our current schools are based on a particular conceptual paradigm ....." She trailed off, Anders' face had gone grey. "What's wrong?"  
"M... May I?" He asked quietly stretching out his hand towards the book. She tucked her bookmark into place and held it out to him, he took it with trembling fingers. He opened the dust jacket and traced the author's name with the tips of his fingers. He turned to the acknowledgement and paused. He just stared at the page, blinking rapidly. He passed the book back and she looked at the tight hand written acknowledgement. _'For my dearest A. may the seventh time be the charm.'_  She looked up at him and closed the book.  
"A... As in Anders?" She said softly. He nodded.  
"I thought they had destroyed all of the copies after...."  
“After?"  
“She died.”   
“What happened?"  
“She was killed by a templar hunter, after she escaped the circle with me,” he looked away. She could tell there was more to the story but she didn’t want to press.  
"Did you want to borrow it?” He shook his head his eyes distant.  
"I'm sorry, after…. it was .... just unexpected.” He paused taking a moment to settle himself. “Varric asked me to ask if you were going to join us at the Hanged Man this evening."  
She grimaced. "I’m not sure. Mother wants me to go to some Maker awful dinner. After the last time I skipped out to fight slavers I kind of owe it to her.” Anders chuckled.  
“You did kind of ruin that dress."  
“It was pink … AND it had ruffles!” Anders snorted in amusement, she cast him a dour look. “I know I am going to pay for it. She has that look that means she is going to try and set me up with another spineless noble fop…. I can just tell.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see Anders' face twitch with something like jealousy. She blinked and it was gone. “Though I might wander by after... see if I can ruin this dress as well,” She grinned impishly at him. "Do you think if I ruin enough she'll give up?"  
"I wouldn't count on it."He chuckled patting the book on her lap. "I will leave you to your reading." He stood casting a wistful look at the shelves of books.  
“You are welcome to borrow any books you want or come up here and read any time.”   
“I might just take you up on that.” He smiled softly at her and left. 

 

She entered the hanged man in a huff, anger glinting in her eyes. They looked up as she stomped in to Varric's chambers and flopped into the chair beside Sebastian.   
"So it went that well," Varric said chuckling.  
She groaned dropping her head into her hands. "Mother almost flayed me alive." Isabella pushed a foaming pint over to her and she took a deep swig.  
"You can't leave us hanging like that Hawke, spill... details."  
She groaned. "One of the self important asses who my mother wanted me to meet tried to get handsy." She looked pitifully up at them. "When I politely requested he remove his hand from my person he made some rather rude comments about common swine polluting the ranks of nobility and needing to be taught a lesson, so….. I broke three of his fingers." Varic chuckled.  
"He's lucky he walked away at all," Isabella said mildly her hand stroking the blade if the dagger she had been polishing, she looked up winking at Hawke. "I have to say though in that dress I might be tempted to get a bit handsy." Hawke snorted.  
"Issy You'd be tempted to get handsy if I was in an old sack."  
Isabella shrugged and grinned. "But really you do look delectable sweetie, doesn't she Anders?" Isabella turned her amused gaze to the Mage sitting to her left, Hawke's eyes followed. Anders looked almost stunned, his heated gaze dragging up her corseted bodice and bountiful breasts  tracing the curling lines of her tattoo up to her reddened lips and to the carefully crafted dark curls that framed her face. Her mouth went dry at the heat of his regard a blush rising to her cheeks. Nervously she dampened her lips with her toungue. His eyes followed the moment, his breath hitching.  "Makers Breath!" He muttered under his breath, closing his eyes.  
"I think Hawke just broke Blondie," Varric chuckled. "Now who's up for a game of wicked grace."

 

They walked back to the Hawke estate arm in arm.  
“No Anders! I will take you down the passage though the vault. It will be safer than walking through dark town on your own.” He chuckled at her concern and she pulled a face at him. They paused at the door to the Hawke estate neither willing to end the evening quite yet.   
"You know I've been meaning to thank you. Having someone like you making a name for yourself in Kirkwall, its done a lot for mages. You're the kind of leader we need, to tell the world we won't be punished any longer for our maker given gifts."  
"Ooh I love it when you go all hot headed revolutionary," she said smiling flirtatiously at him. He looked at her longing and fear etched into his features.  
“You know what I am, you know the risks this would bring to you and your family.” He took in the sight of her and groaned. “Maker! I am not sure how much longer I can resist." A small bubble of hope blossomed in her chest soothing the ache that had been so constant.   
“Then don't," she said plainly. Without preamble he stepped forward, one arm curling around her waist he pulled her forward into him. His lips crushed into hers. Years of desire and yearning exploded out from her and she met his fire with her own. Her tongue darted into his mouth dancing with his, the moan of pleasure from him goaded her desire and she slid a hand inside his coat searching for skin.  It was like their first kiss but more, so much more. There was the burning desire but also an aching tenderness. He broke the kiss and sighed, pressing his forehead to hers.   
"This will be a disaster, but I can't live without it …. I thought with Justice, this part of me was over." He looked at her, disbelief and desire fighting for dominance. "I can't give you a normal life. If you are with me we will be hunted, hated, the whole world will be against us."   
“Oh shut up! and kiss me,” she said, pulling his head down to hers kissing him cutting off any more protests.

 

She led him up the stairs putting a finger to her lips. "Mother," she mouthed silently pointing to her mothers door. Anders grinned pushing her up against the stair wall and kissed her, his hand running up her corseted body. She moaned when his hand brushed her breast teasing her nipple through the fine fabric. "  
"Marian?" Her mothers voice came from her room.   
Hawke pulled her lips free and Anders grinned at her beginning to kiss his way down her throat. "Yes mother," she said trying to keep her voice steady.  
"Remember we have breakfast in the morning."  
"Mhmmmm," she affirmed trying not to gasp as Anders nipped at the skin at the sensitive juncture of her neck and shoulder. She batted at him and pulled him up the stairs towards her rooms. "Good night mother." She vaguely heard her mothers muffled reply as she pulled Anders into her room shutting the door firmly behind them. The cool night had left a chill in the air and she moved to close her window, put another log on the fire as she returned. She turned back to Anders smiling. He stood stock still at the door way where she had left him. He moved towards her slowly, his gaze drinking in the sight of her.  
"When I was in the circle love was only a game, it gave the Templars too much power if there was anything you couldn't stand to lose." He reached forward and cradled her cheek. "It would kill me to lose you."  
She leaned into the touch. "You aren't going to lose me."  
He lent forward his lips an inch from hers. "No Mage I have ever know has ever dared to fall in love." She could feel his magic flowing in and around her, he moved even closer his lips almost brushing hers. "this is the rule I will most cherish breaking." The kiss this time was tender, the desperation from earlier held in check. She sighed into his kiss, her anxiety leaving her in a rush. She broke the contact but grasped his hand in hers. Years of using a staff had developed callouses on his palms, they were healers hands, fighters hands, the hands of the man that had become so important to her. She kissed each one his fingers.   
"You have such wonderful hands." He grinned wickedly at her.  
"You don't know the half of it."  
"I expect a thorough demonstration."   
"You can count on it." He pulled her into another deep languorous kiss. His tongue stroked hers eliciting a sigh of pleasure before kissing his way along her jaw to her ear. "But first I need to divest you of your exquisite finery." She felt his hand slide up the back of her corset to the ties. With a few expert tugs she felt the boning loosen and he carefully unhooked the fastenings at the front of the gown. The dress she had on underneath was soft and loose wrapped around her at the waist and fastened with a simple tie.She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bed. He smiled as he followed, his teasing smile that promised such sensuality and passion. She pulled him down onto the bed and he crawled on top of her. Their hands roamed across each other revelling in the freedom to touch each other.  He kissed her lips and throat slowly working his way down to the neckline of her gown. He looked up at her questioning and she nodded. He undid the tie slowly as if unwrapping a precious gift. She had been naked under the dress and he let out a small sigh of pleasure. "Maker you're beautiful," he whispered. Delicately running his hands across her skin, watching the goosebumps that developed in his wake.  She reached up and started to undo the catches than held his coat on he smiled and stood leaving the bed for a moment. He pulled his coat off slowly folding it neatly and putting it on her desk chair. His eyes stayed on her. When he started to untuck his shirt, she got out of bed and walked over to him, her dress fluttering open. He was not about to rob her of the pleasure of disrobing him. She gently batted his hands away and ran her hands along the edge of his shirt untucking it. With excruciating slowness she pulled his shirt up running her hands along his chest and sides as she did so. He grasped her face and kissed her deeply drinking her in, she responded with ardor, running her nails lightly up his back. He shivered and closed his eyes briefly. She pulled back and pulled his shirt over his head. It was the first time she had seen him with no shirt. He had the strength of a fighter but also the softness of a scholar. He was, in her eyes, the most handsome man she had ever seen. She kissed, licked and nipped her way down his chest running her hands over as much skin as she could. She trailed her tongue down the dusting of hair that lead from his belly button to the waistband of his britches. She could feel his cock straining against the fabric. She smiled, he had also forgone the niceties of small clothes. Slowly and carefully she tugged the waistband down, his phallus sprang free. She looked up at him a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. He stared down at her his pupils dilated, his breath coming slow and shuddering. She pushed him back gently until he bumped into the desk. He grasped the edge with his hands, his white knuckled grip the only sign of his own anxiety. She smiled up at him and carefully trailed her tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip, running it around the tip for good measure. His sharp intake of breath told her it had been a while. Smiling she sucked him him to her mouth, the groan he released made her pussy throb. She ran one hand up his chest while the other cupped his balls as she slowly, moved her mouth along the shaft. She took him deep, massaging the tip with the muscles in he back of her throat.   
"Maker," he gasped as she did this for a third time. She drew him in and out, licking, swirling and sucking till he quivered like a fly stung horse. She looked up at him her gaze hazy with lust. In one swift movement he pulled her up, and turned her so she was leaning against the desk. "My turn," he said his voice husky with pleasure and desire. There was a frenzied moment where he threw off his britches and shoes, pulling her slippers off as well. He came to her naked, just as the maker had made him. She drank in the sight of him, "If you keep looking at me like that I might not be able to restrain myself," he said chuckling cradling her face in his hands.  
"I thought we'd gotten over this restraint business," she said pulling him against her. The table was just at the right hight, his phallus brushed her nether lips.  
He shuddered with the effort of his control. "Not yet sweetheart," he said grinning wickedly and kissed her. Slowly he moved his way down her body, he paused at her bountiful breasts and sighed drinking her in. He traced rings around her nipples with his tongue then gently sucked one of them into his mouth, she moaned with pleasure, thrusting her chest forward involuntarily. He ran his hand down her body to her throbbing cunt. He lightly grazed his fingers across her full nether lips. She bucked against him hungry for more. She could feel him smile against her breast, with consummate patience he moved his mouth to the other breast and dipped the top of one finger into her pussy. She bucked driving it deeper. He tutted and settled one hand on her hip holding her still, while with the other he deftly penetrated her as his own deliberate pace. He used his thumb with consummate skill applying pressure to her sensitive clit. She tried to move to thrust forward but he held her in place. Slowly tortuously he fucked her with his fingers until she was begging for him. Caught between intense pleasure and the pain of frustrated release.   
"Anders," she gasped. He released his grip on her and pulled her to the bed. She moved onto it and beckoned to him. He crawled up her naked body his skin sliding against hers. She shivered with pleasure her body on fire with sensation and wrapped her legs around him pulling him up until his phallus brushed against her damp pussy.   
"Are you sure?" He asked holding himself above her.  
She smiled at him, and ran her fingers along his jaw line. "Yes."  
Carefully he positioned himself, gliding inch by glorious inch into her. Using her entwined ankles she pushed him into her as deep as he would go, he made a guttural sound as he slid in to the hilt. She shuddered with the pleasure, reaching up she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him slowly. They stayed still for a moment enjoying the sensation of finally being together. Then he began to move, he started slow, but there were too many years of desire between them. She moved with him, driving him harder and faster with the heels of her feet. He reached between them and fingered her clit. She made inarticulate sounds as her pleasure mounted. He drove her higher, his own pleasure almost to much to handle. Using her heels she pushed him in hard and deep as she climaxed hard around him. He cried out and years of pent up sexual tension exploded within him releasing with a hot spurt of semen. They lay there breathing hard, neither able, or willing, to move.  
"Maker," she breathed running her hand through his tousled hair. "We should have done that ages ago."  
He chuckled, "probably." 

 

She stood by the fire, her mind wandering over the lovemaking session of the previous night a smile playing on her lips. She heard him come up behind her his arm sliding around her turning her towards him.  
"I love you. I’ve been holding back from saying that." He looked guiltily away. "You should have a normal life, not be tied down to a fugitive with no future, but I don’t ever want to leave you." There was a burlp as his stomach growled. She smiled his grey warden metabolism was going to keep Orana busy.  
"Want a sandwich?" He laughed caught aback.  
"You will be an inspiration to generations of romantic poets." He touched her face, true joy shining in his eyes. "So not to bring up anything unpleasant," he shifted uncomfortably. "But the Templars were sniffing around my place yesterday. It's possible I will need somewhere else to go ... In the near future... Would here be an option?" She would say yes in an instant if he wasn't so cute when he was uncomfortable.  
She smiled cheekily, "Are you asking to move in?"  
"Well... Yes..." She could see the tension in him a deep uncertainty that he tried to hide with humour. "I thought you might appreciate not having to step over the drunkards in dark town every time you want to see me.... What do you say?"  
She gasped his hands smiling reassuringly. "Yes, of course."  
Relief broke across his face, like the sun through clouds. "For three years I have lain awake every night aching for you..." He cradled her face in his hands. "I am still terrified I'll wake up."  
The kiss that followed was long and deep. She heard his stomach burble loudly again and pulled away.  
"First lets get you some food, then you can find some inventive ways to thank me."  
He ginned, "I think I can manage that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * "Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.  
> Foul and corrupt are they  
> Who have taken His gift  
> And turned it against His children.  
> They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones.  
> They shall find no rest in this world  
> Or beyond.  
> -Transfigurations 1:2"


	5. Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders is having trouble controlling Justice, Justice and Have it out. 
> 
> This chapter is a bit short I will be posting a second chapter ASAP. This chapter is NSFW

She looked at the closed clinic doors and sighed, he was not going to make this easy. She could still feel the sting of his rebuke, but one of them had to be an adult it might as well be her. Putting her pride aside she carefully pushed open the door. Anders looked up as she entered, pausing mid pace. His face was taught with worry.  
“Anders’ love—“she started.  
“I’m sorry,” he cut in. “I was …. you were right.” She looked at him stunned ad he began pacing again.  
"Is everything ok?" She said coming up to him, He looked tired and drawn. He stopped his pacing and lent against the work bench biting his lip.  
She jumped up next to him her knees brushing his side. His stance was stiff and uncomfortable.   
"I'm ..... I… When you said I was holding back, you were right. I don’t know how to …. When I am alone the harmony between justice and I… it is easy to maintain. When I am with you….. Justice….."  
“Does he feel the same—"  
“He.. I love you…. it is not that.” He looked towards the clinic doors. “Desire is a new thing for him. I had a rather... adventurous life before we joined.”   
“From the way Isabella tells it you were a bit more than that.” Hawke chucked.  
“Well yes….. In Justice's world desire was a feeling for demons, the fact that he can feel desire scares him.... and when he is afraid he lashes out…. I can’t have him hurt you." With a frustrated expletive he started pacing. "When justice and I merged. He changed, but I also changed.... He had never felt passion and desire the way a living person does…. He becomes a tempest inside of me, lashing out at anything and everything. But I don’t know if I can do this alone..." He stooped his face drawn, she could see the effort it took him to ask for her aid. She motioned for him to come closer. He edged within reach of her and stopped unsure.   
"Oh come on!" She said exasperation in her voice. She pulled him in so he stood between her legs.   
He looked at her, his eyes level with hers a sideways slant to his mouth. “Hawke, love , I’m not sure— Maker!” he gasped as she ran her lips up his throat to his ear.  
“I have an idea,” she whispered, sitting back. "When you wee teaching me to heal I felt your magic and his….. His power is much more like mine than yours. You taught me how to control my power your way, let me show you mine.” He looked unsure.  
“Anders look… I will try and show you like you showed me, I will start slowly..... you can just squeeze my hands if you want to stop. Now close your eyes."  
He sighed closing his eyes. She breathed and began to open herself. It started like a dust devil, the air spinning and getting warmer. She strained and tried to slow the release of power it spun and twisted the dusty feeling giving way to an almost fiery heat, pricking with electricity. She could feel his tendrils, blue lightning cracking against hers. She felt his body tense but he didn't squeeze her hands. With as much control and she could muster she held her power in check. It danced, it moved faster and faster, twisting and twirling seeking to build further or be released. She heard his shuddering breath but still no squeeze. With a grunt she let it build more struggling to keep the pace of the build measured. His own magic was building crackling and spinning. She could feel Justice's rage, the white anger that had no connection to Anders compassion. This was raw and uncompromising. She opened her eyes and looked into the blazing blue of his. His hands moved up her arms grasping so hard she was sure she would bruise.  
"Do not attempt to tame me little girl!" It was Anders and not Anders the voice echoed and reverberated, Justice.   
She raised an eyebrow, her own recalcitrant nature coming to the fore. "Just watch me." And then she let go. The tempest crashed around them fire, ice, electricity and stone all of them and none. Justice made and inarticulate sound and his storm met hers. Hot and cold, red and blue, the tendrils vied, caressed, destroyed and flowed through each other. She pushed and so did she, step for step move for move they danced in the chaos. With out warning she stopped and simply let it go. The air was still once more. Justice looked bereft for a second, he had matched her every move and now he had withdrawn his own power. It might have almost been amusing if it weren't for his painful grip on her arms. Anders' eyes flicked back to brown, the burning lines of blue fire cross his body fading into nothingness. He released her arms and fell forward his hands resting heavily on the bench either side of her, his head bowed. His body trembled and he was breathing hard. "Anders?"   
"The rage... " he choked out. His body shaking with the effort to contain it.   
She grasped his chin in her hand and tilted it up to look at her. "This sort of energy, heightens all strong emotions, all passions, not just rage." She tilted her head down to his and brushed her lips against his, she then traced her tongue lightly across them. His hands grasped her hips hard. When she began to suck one of his lips into her mouth he groaned and ground his lips into hers, his tongue desperately darting into her mouth. His fire had broken the last vestiges of control she had on her own and it blazed within her. She deftly undid the clasps on his coat pushing it unceremoniously off him. It fell with thud, his shirt quickly followed. His hands worked their way under her robes pushing the skirt up to he waist, when he encountered her complete lack of small clothes he shuddered with desire. He pulled down the wide neck of her robe, while she had forsaken lower small clothes her bountiful bosom still required support. With an impatient gesture he tore the clasp holding it in place. Her breasts tumbled free he suckled one nipple then the other, she cooed with pleasure her back arching. He nibbled and sucked his way up her chest to he neck. She ran her nails down his back, leaving pink lines in their wake.   
"Fuck me my love," She whispered into his ear.   
Lifting her legs he pushed her back so she was lying on the bench her legs against his chest. He stroked her clit as he loosened his britches. His cock sprung free as hard as iron with one smooth motion he sheathed himself to the hilt. She writhed in pleasure as he fucked her, one hand in her clit the other roaming across her body. She could feel her wetness, feeling him sliding in and out, deeper and deeper. She bit her lip trying not to cry out as he drove her to orgasm. She came squeezing him hard, but still he fucked her. His eyes flickering between brown and blue. Suddenly she noticed his other hand, he had lubricated his finger with her juices and was slowly easing it into her anus. She started to shudder another climax building fast. With his finger in her ass and his cock buried deep within her she came violently. Anders groaned, a sound not wholly his nor Justice's, and she felt him explode inside her. His orgasm went on for a long time, his body continuing to spasming with aftershocks as he fell against her.   
After a long time he looked up at her his head resting against her belly. "I didn't hurt you did I?" he said.  
"No," She smiled at him. "I knew who you are when I chose to be with you. You are gentle but also fierce." She sat up slowly and he began to pull away. She grasped his arm and pulled him in for a kiss. "I love all of you," she whispered. He looked unsure. "Yes justice too," she smiled.  
"I do not deserve you," he said and kissed her.  
She wrapped her legs around him her body still aching for him, she felt his cock stir against her nether lips. Twisting her ankles together she rocked expertly against him until he groaned into her mouth. His eyes flashed blue and he picked her up, carrying her to the small back room where he used to sleep. He kicked the door closed and pushed her up against it, sheathing himself to the hilt as he did so.   
"Maker," he groaned and his voice was all justice. He saw the surprise in her eyes and smiled. "Now it is my turn to tame you," He growled and nipped her throat, driving hard into her.   
She cried out in pleasure then grinned wickedly back at him, "you are welcome to try, my love."  
His eyes burned, passion, desire and love winding through their glowing depths. With one hand he caught up her wrists trapping them above her head with the other he tore her robe clean off. She fluttered around him, the unexpected thrill of the situation adding further fuel to the furnace of their desire.   
He began to languidly thrust in to her then, slow and deliberate thrusts, and she understood. It was a game of wills between them, two incredible forces sparking against each other. She squeezed him as he thrust, tightening her walls around his shaft. She saw his eyelids flicker, his throat muscles tightening restraining his groan. She captured his mouth with hers summoning a spark of her magic she played with it on her tongue letting it dance between them. She felt his lips smile against hers, a chuckle bubbled up from inside him, it was a chuckle wholly unlike Anders'. Using the leverage she had from being pushed against the door she pushed him back with her hips. He stumbled back slightly and his leg hit the edge of the bed. Keeping a firm grip on her he sat heavily on the bed using the opportunity to drive his cock deep insider her. She gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the sound lapping up her pleasure. Adjusting her legs she pushed him back. Now she was in control and she rode his cock hard and fast. She watched his eyes flutter close and his hands tightened on her hips. When he was so close she could feel his control slipping she stopped, holding him at the brink. He was breathing hard, he opened his eyes and she smiled down into those glowing blue depths. He made an inarticulate sound and flipped her over. Burying her head into his shoulder she stifled a cry by biting down on the tender flesh. He growled in pleasure, thrusting deep. He pulled back and she watched as a wicked smiled spread across his face, reaching between them he brushed her clit. She writhed against him, caught between the pleasure of his touch and the desire to bring him to climax first. He closed his eyes, thrusting hard into her, without warning her ran a stream of power across her clit. It was too much, her orgasm came crashing over her, he cried out and followed her over the precipice. His phallus twitching inside her as her pussy milked him dry.   
When he could talk again he looked at her, wonder infusing his features. Gently he stroked her cheek. "Maker," he said the blue glow beginning to fade. "I never knew." Then he was gone. Anders smiled at her his brown eyes twinkling, "If I knew how easily you would tame him I would've given in to your wily wiles sooner."  
She laughed playfully slapping his arm, "I gave you enough invitations."  
He chucked grasping her face and kissing her deeply.


	6. Qunari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Qunari invasion of Kirkwall

\- - - - 3 months later - - - -

She sighed and leaned against the wall, a moments respite before heading back into the fray. She watched Anders through slitted lids. She had come to love watching him write, there was something very Anders about it. The quill scratched furiously below his his bowed head as he filled page after page with his cramped script. Occasionally he would pause and absentmindedly gnaw on the feathered tip of his quill before continuing. She smiled, her heart swelling with love and joy. No matter the trails life threw at her it was these simple moments over the past few months that kept her sane. She chuckled, the irony of a possessed Mage being her anchor was not lost on her. He looked up his brow furrowed.  
"Are you ok?" He said, gently putting the quill down and coming to her.  
She let out a breath, "The damned relic was a Qunari text written by their prophet and Isabella knew the whole time." She ran her hand through her hair in exasperation. "She disappeared with it and left us to clean up her mess. Now I have to go meet with Aveline and the Arishok and try and work this all out."  
He smiled gently at her cradling her face in his, "You will be able to work it out." He smiled warmly kissing her. "You always do."  
She rested her head on his shoulder, "I think after all this is over we take a trip, find somewhere out of the way with no Qunari and no Templars."  
"Sounds idyllic," he kissed her on the forehead and moved back. "I was going to drop in on the clinic but I can come with you if you want."  
She ran her hand along his stubbly jaw. "No, I think one unbound Mage is enough of an offence to the Qun. I'll take Fenris maybe he can talk some sense into them."   
Anders frowned at the mention of Fenris, "I still don't know why you...."  
She shook her head tiredly, "Not now, love, please." He nodded, she could see the argument they were going to have already writ in his eyes. They rarely argued about anything, but Fenris was a hot topic of contention. She sighed pushing herself off the wall, "I should go deal with this before Aveline has an aneurysm."   
He smiled and gave her a quick chaste kiss before settling back at the desk. She cast one last look at him before leaving and smiled, hopefully she would be back early enough to ambush him mid writing or maybe at the clinic. She smiled at the recollection he got so flustered last time, she had to do it again. Grinning she headed out to meet Aveline.

She saw what the Arishok intended half a second before he gave the order.  
"We've got to go," she muttered urgently, Aveline gave an almost imperceptible nod, but it was already too late. She saw him give the order. With prodigious skill Aveline struck the first spear out of the air, but more still fell.   
She began to pull out her staff preparing for the battle, Aveline stayed her hand.  
"Not here." She responded with a curt nod and they made their retreat. She dogged another spear as made it through the gate, it was there she drew her staff, preparing for pursuit, but none came. Fenris stood his blade drawn, a slew dead Qunari surrounding him. So they were relying on the rear guard to finish them off if they made it out. She let out a sigh there would be a brief respite.  
"Can you hear it? the Qunari must be spreading out...they are attacking the city........ Why what could they possibly hope to accomplish"  
She shook her head, "You heard the Arishok, he is done playing nice and damn the consequences."  
Aveline shook her head her face a mix of disbelief and resignation. "You may be right... Whatever it is we need to do something quickly, but we'll need some help."  
She head the yell of a familiar voice and Anders rounded the corner Varric hot on his heels.   
"You're safe, Thank the maker. I thought they'd got you! Dark town is flooded with people trying to get away from all of this," he gasped and wrapped his arms around her in a crushing embrace. She took a moment breathing in his scent, memorising the feel of him, reluctantly she released him.  
Aveline looked up at the city a fierce tension in her features. "The Qunari are attacking the city, and fast. The Arishok planned this for who knows how long. I'll rally the guardsmen. I suggest heading to your estate in Hightown. Be careful"

She had to keep moving. The Qunari specialised in fighting mages but the Arishok was slow or at least slower than her. She shot a freezing spell over her shoulder then followed it with as many high powered spells she could manage, turning and sprinting off before he could recover. She could see she was wearing him down, but he was wearing her down. His first charge had caught her off guard and she had slammed into the wall, she was pretty sure she had broken a rib or two. Then the second blow almost took her arm off, she had heard Anders' cry a moment before it fell and dogged to the side but she was too slow. The blow had glanced off her steel pauldron a biting into her shoulder. She winced in pain as she tried to maintain her pace, even as her strength was flagging. She shot other barrage of spells, at the Arishok turning once again to put as much distance between them as possible. A yell went up from the crowd, the Arishok had fallen unable to stand. She turned stalking back towards him, she would end this now. The Arishok edged away from her as the reality of the outcome set in.   
"We will return," he croaked as she raised her staff and plunged its blade into his heart. The silence that followed was heavy, she could feel her breathing coming hard and the pain in her shoulder was nigh unbearable. But she pulled the blade free with dignity and looked pointedly at the waiting Qunari, with a nod they filed out, a couple of the Sten lifting the Arishok's body and carrying it with them. She sighed and lent heavily on her staff, Anders rushed forward the cool blue of his healing magic swirling around him. She felt the pain slowly lessen in her shoulder.  
"That will tied you over, but you are under healers orders to head home as soon as possible," he smiled at her some of his tension lessening. "Love," he whispered but stopped as the distinctive sound of marching in full plate brought the knight commander into view.  
She looked taken aback at the exiting Qunari, "is it over?"  
Hawke straightened her body aching in more places than she could count but she could not show weakness before the knight commander. "It is over." She confirmed   
"It would appear," the knight commander said tightly looking around at the assembled nobles. "That Kirkwall has a new champion." The cheer that arose from the assembled nobles was deafening, they had all witnessed her fight with the Arishok. She could already tell it would become the stuff of legend or a least one of Varric's stories.   
"Let's get out of here, before they try and make me Viscount," she muttered under her breath starting towards the door. She could feel Anders hand at her elbow giving her strength. They had made it to the antechamber when they heard the clank of mail clad footsteps behind them.  
"Champion!" Meredith's voice rang out like a whip crack.   
She stopped and turned to Meredith, Anders inserting himself subtly between them.   
"We still have to discuss the magic issue."  
Anders stiffened. "There is no issue," he said through gritted teeth.  
Meredith rolled her eyes at him. Reaching forward with a gauntleted hand, "Out of my way Mage. Don't think I won't deal with you."  
Hawke saw the flash of blue lines and pushed Anders behind her before Meredith noticed, luckily the Knight Commander's gaze was fixed on her. Hawke met Meredith's cold gaze with her own. "If you ever come near me or mine, I will destroy you," she said quietly, menace throbbing in every syllable.   
Meredith glowered at her, "Your freedom is a luxury that can easily be revoked."  
Hawke laughed coldly, "Not any more Knight Commander, I am the Champion of Kirkwall... You just guaranteed my freedom and the freedom of those I associate with," she turned to go motioning to the others. "We're leaving."  
When they reached the door Anders turned back to look at Meredith a blue echo to his gaze, "It must really gaul you that the Maker chose a free Mage to save this city."  
Meredith looked apoplectic with rage her hand clenching and unclenching itching to reach for the sword strapped to her back. Hawke moved quickly grabbing Anders' shoulder pulling him bodily from the room as Varric closed the door behind them.   
"Blondie you really have a death wish," he muttered as they made their way out of the Viscount's keep. 

She relaxed in the tub the hot water soothing the aches and pains in her body, the scented oils swirling in rainbows across its surface. She closed her eyes and sighed, Anders had forced her to go through another round of healing before he was fully satisfied she was going to be ok. He had headed to his clinic a few hours ago, it had torn him to go but his patients needed him. She closed her eyes and sighed, there would be so much work to do tomorrow but for tonight her time was her own. She heard the door to her room open quietly. She watched Anders enter through half closed eyes. He had smiled seeing her in the bath. He had moved out of her field of vision but she could hear him stripping his clothing off, abandoning them in some haphazard heap she guessed. His soft footsteps padded towards the bath.   
"Shift forward, love." He whispered into her ear, she smiled shimmying forward. Carefully he slid in behind her. Once he was settled he pulled her back to lie against him, his arms wrapping about her his head resting on hers. They sat like that in silence, enjoying the closeness and the feeling of skin against skin.  
Anders broke the silence releasing shuddering breath. "I thought I was going to loose you today," his embrace tightened around her and he kissed the top of her head. "Maker help me, but I don't know what I would have done...what he would have done... And that terrifies me." She turned in his arms and sat up wrapping her legs around him so they were sitting eye to eye. She cradled his face in her hands and kissed him gently. Sitting back slightly she met his uncertain gaze and smiled. "You think that a city full of crazed Qunari could stop me coming back to you? You can't get rid of me that easily." She winked at him and he chucked pulling her into a deep kiss. Her body rubbed against his, their moist oily skin sliding deliciously. He groaned his kiss turning hungry. She felt an unfamiliar urgency in him which was echoed in her. They were both alive and together, it could have been otherwise far to easily. Her hunger flared she wanted him now. She could feel his ridged phallus pressed between them, she lifted herself using the rim of the tub and lowered herself onto him. He groaned into her shoulder the sound rumbling through her causing her pussy to squeeze him tightly. He thrust into her again and again. The water sloshed over the side of the tub in waves but neither paid any attention. Their love making was noisy, hard and desperate. Each bite, hickey and scratched a declaration to the world, you are mine. He came with a shout and she with him, the echoes of their cries echoing through the house. She collapsed against him and he held her until their breathing returned to normal. He gingerly touched a bite mark on her shoulder smiling guiltily. She could feel him beginning to summon his healing magic.   
"Don't," she said softly grasping his hand in her own. "I like them."

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Dragon Age and the characters of the game do not belong to me. This is a no profit fanfiction
> 
> This is the new and evolving version of this story the original draft I posted on AFF before I knew about AOO. This is my First work so it is a bit rough and I stuck to the game events more closely than most but I am getting more confident :)


End file.
